


Morning Coffee

by birdsongcowboy



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, eager for some feedback and if someone would wanna see more of this au, this is mostly a test because im
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 08:07:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20288185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsongcowboy/pseuds/birdsongcowboy
Summary: Men meet at the bus stop.





	Morning Coffee

“Oh that's not…strictly necessary, is it?” John stammered, his hand reaching out for the second coffee despite how his brain protested.

Harold laughed a little to himself, handing over the cup and forcing himself not to let his hand linger on it. “Not gonna make people drive me to get coffees when I can -” he cut himself off instead, a smile spreading over his face. “I…I don't live far from here. It’s not a bother.”

John looked down at the ground, suddenly very aware of how he stood next to the other man. He had been a schoolteacher for a number of years already, taking the morning every day getting dressed in his boring suits and grabbing coffee from the nearest, cheapest place he could. The prime minister had spoken at the school he worked at, breaking through the security guards and catching John in a conversation afterwards that he very nervously participated in. He didn't even remember the subject, it had felt more like the short brunette was scrambling for an excuse to talk, smiling too much and shaking with both eager hands.  
That was only weeks ago, he thought, and the politician had been adamant in remaining in contact. Mornings like this were commonplace now, the man running to meet him as he clutched his tiny bag and rolled on his heels. A greeting, idle conversation, Harold Saxon smiling happily at even being near him.

He looked over and saw the man taking a sip of his coffee, small smile still curled at the corners of his mouth. A chance, he thought, but what for he didn't quite know yet. He cocked his head, gathering the courage he could muster for the question he wanted to ask. “Do you um…where might that be? Where you live…”

“Like I said,” Harold met his eyes as he lifted his head, smiling a little and wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. “not far.”

He placed two fingers under his teeth, letting out a sharp whistle and a car was there faster than John could even see clearly.

Harold’s voice was low, sultry, and more intimate than John could handle. He opened the door, his cheeks flushed with the slightest tinge of color as he managed to get the words out. “Next time I see you, Mr. Smith, we’ll set a date. I’ll take you there.”


End file.
